The Things I Don't Understand
by There'sAHoleInMyPocket
Summary: See how confusion, awkwardness, and the lack of toilet paper can bring two people together.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, so I don't really write stories a lot. I read more of these than I write. I actually just made a profile so I could post it. Weird, I know. But hopefully its worth it. Its meant to be a One Shot but let me know if you think I should continue with it. I'm not making any promises...because like I said...I'm not a big writer. But I'm not against thinking about it. Hope you enjoy my random thoughts I call a short story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Thats all Glee right there. **

* * *

You know what things I don't understand?

My bladder. I'm serious. Why does it decided to be full at the worst times. I finally find a empty table, get all my books out, my laptop on, and right when I'm about to study…I have to pee.

The library. Like, why wouldn't they have a sign pointing to where the bathroom is in this damn place? I'm pretty sure they do it on purpose. That way by the time you find the bathroom you are about to explode, practically peeing your pants, waddling into the first stall you see.

My pants. I have no problem with them in the morning but when I need them off in a second the button doesn't want to pop out. And don't get me started on trying to slide them down my shakira-shaped hips and thighs.

Bathrooms. Why don't they have a little alarm that warns you about the condition of the stall your about to go into? They know your rushing in there. They know your going to practically rip your pants off not paying attention to anything but the fact that if you don't pee now its going to get real. And by real I mean messy. Very messy.

Janitors. Is it not their job to make sure each bathroom is stocked with the necessary items needed in the bathroom? You know like soap, paper towels, toilet paper….its pretty important. Without these essential items people may find their way into a bit of a predicament.

Myself. Why the hell did I not check if the bathroom had toilet paper first?

"Well shit."

* * *

"Hello?"

"Quinn I need your help."

"What do you need Santana? I'm heading to class."

"Wait!…it will be real quick. I promise."

"Ugh what?"

"Come to the library."

"No."

"But Quinn…"

"I'm already about to be late for class."

"Quinn! I need you!"

"For what?!"

"Um…just come to the library."

"I'm not doing anything unless you tell me why."

"No."

"Fine…bye Santana."

"Ok wait!…I'mstuckinthebathroomandneedto iletpaper!"

"What?"

"I'm stuck in the bathroom and need toilet paper!"

"…."

"Quinn?"

"Hahahaha oh my goodness! This is priceless!"

"Quinn...seriously…"

"I can't breath….my ribs…holy cow Santana this is great!"

"QUINN!"

"Ok, sorry. Sorry."

"Now can you head over?"

"No."

"What?!"

"In class now, have to go. Just wiggle yourself dry or something."

"I hate you. You really have no idea how much right now."

"Love you too sweetie!"

You know what things I don't understand?

Quinn. She's my roommate and supposedly my "best" friend. Yet she can't take two seconds to get me some damn toilet paper! Let me tell yah…the quality of a best friend has really gone down these days.

Awkwardness. Why does it exist? Seriously. It doesn't do any good for anybody. None at all. Not one bit. Especially when someone else enters why you are still in quite a predicament.

Myself. Why do I feel like the best way to try not to be awkward is to quote Anne Hathaway? Who happens to be a pretty awkward person herself. Kill me now please.

(*authors note* for people who didn't see Anne Hathaway's Golden Globe speech or has never seen 30 Rock…this next word may confuse you. And that is completely ok)

"Blerg."

"Excuse me?"

"Um…I mean hi."

"…Hello."

"This is going to sound a bit weird…"

"…"

"And I know your busy…doing your business and all…but do you happen to have any toilet paper?"

"Oh….Oh! Yea of course hold on one…um…well shit."

* * *

You know what things I don't understand?

Conversations. In school people teach you how to have conversations. Proper conversations. Normal conversations. But they never teach you about conversations in interesting situations. For instance…two complete strangers, stuck in a bathroom. Where would you even start a conversation? Would you even have one?

Shoes. Why can't you tell everything about a person from their shoe. Like what they look like, act like, everything. You should be able to. Maybe I'm just not a shoe reader. But the only thing I am getting from a pair of black and white converse, with a unicorn drawn on each tip of the shoe, is the fact that this person may be able to tell me where the lucky charms guy is hiding. And that's not really helpful.

Myself. The fact that If I checked for toilet paper I wouldn't have been stuck on this toilet for more than 30 minutes, next to a stranger who I'm pretty sure thinks I am the most awkward person…next to Anne Hathaway and Natalie Portman of course.

"So you come here often?" I guess her giggling is a good sign.

"Just about every time I have to use the bathroom."

"Makes sense."

"Yea…so how long have you been here?"

"Probably like 10 minutes before you walked in."

"Why didn't you run out of the stall and grab some paper towels or something."

"I'm almost positive by the time I would have gathered up the courage to run out of the stall, with my pants down, you would have walked in. And it wouldn't have been a pretty site."

"It would have been an amazing site. Actually would have made my day."

"Um…"

"Not because you were naked!…gosh…I mean cause it would have been funny!"

"It wouldn't have been funny!"

"It would have been SO funny!"

"No, it would have been humiliating."

"Funny"

"Embarrassing"

"Funny"

"Mortifying"

"Funny"

"Fine…if it is SO funny then you go waddle out of the stall with your pants down and get us some paper towels!"

"Hell no."

"Why?"

"What if someone walks in?"

"Oh my goodness…wait, what time is it?"

"Almost 11:30"

"Crap! I have to be somewhere at 12!"

"Where?"

"Just somewhere important"

"What kind of important place?"

"Nothing. Stop asking! This isn't 20 questions."

"OOO! That's a good idea!"

"Well shit"

* * *

You know what things I don't understand?

Time. It goes so slow when you have nothing to do. But when you have so much to do it goes faster than the roadrunner after drinking 6 cans of Red Bull.

20 questions. Don't you wish the rules were "whoever decides to play this game is the only one who has to answer questions". Or the fact that people decide to ask you the craziest of questions. What the hell happened to "What's your favorite color"?

Voices. Don't you wish you could tell what the person looked like by their voice? I mean voices can be so freaking deceiving. You hear a small squeaky voice thinking it's going to be a little midget girl or something and next thing you know a elephant-size buff guy walks out. It's freaky. Why can't voices just match the person?

Myself. It doesn't take that long to check for toilet paper. It really REALLY doesn't.

"I am not answering that"

"Aw come on! You have to! Its 20 questions!"

"No. I don't even know your name. Shouldn't we do those kind of questions first?"

"Ugh fine. What's your name?"

"Santana, what's yours?"

"Brittany…ok now answer the question."

"No."

"Santana, answer it."

"What?…I am not answering whether or not I would ride off on a unicorn to a magical sex island with Shay Mitchell or Gwyneth Paltrow."

"Why? Its a very good question."

"How is that a good question…and wait, why do I only get two girls as a choice?"

"Would you rather have two boys? one girl and one boy?"

"Um…I don't know."

"So you would have both?"

"Both of what?"

"A boy or a girl. Like you don't prefer either…you like both?"

"To go with me to a magical sexual island?…I don't know. I was just wondering why you only gave me two girls to choose."

"I was just wondering…"

"Wondering what?"

"Well would you have two girl choices? Two boy choices? Or one boy and one girl choice?"

"Are you asking what my sexual preference is?"

"No. I'm asking who would you rather bring with you to a magical sexual island."

"Like hypothetically?"

"Well yes…because I'm pretty sure a magical sexual island that unicorns fly you to doesn't exist. If it did, that is where I would be."

"Do I have to choose one out of the ones you gave me?"

"You can choose whoever you want Santana."

"I mean…hypothetically if there was a magical sexual island, and if I had to choose someone to go with me, I would probably choose Blake Lively…ok there."

"A girl?"

"I mean hypothetically and all"

"Right. Well I would too."

"Blake Lively?"

"No a girl. But I'm more of a Shay Mitchell person"

"Why her?"

"I've always had a thing for brunettes."

"Well shit."

* * *

"Santana? Are you in here?

"Quinn?!"

"Gosh your still in here! You know we have like 10 minutes to get to…"

"I know…could you just hand me and my friend Brittany some paper towels please."

"Brittany?…Santana…did you make an imaginary friend while you were stuck in here? That's not ok."

"Um no…she didn't. I'm Brittany. Very much a real human and very much stuck in a stall with no toilet paper."

"Oh well hi…nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you as well!"

"QUINN! PAPER TOWELS! NOW!"

"Jeez..ok, ok…she is a feisty one Brittany"

"Yea…I figured that out a bit during our conversation."

Quinn gets the paper towels and hands it under each stall for the girls. Brittany is the first one out of the stall and starts washing her hands.

"Wait. She actually had a conversation with you? Santana I'm so proud! Your being social!"

"Quinn shut the hell…well shit."

You know what things I don't understand?

Magical Sexual Islands. Why aren't they real? And am I allowed to change the person I want to take with me?

Myself. Why can't I carry on like a normal person? Why does my brain not connect with my mouth or legs…and tell them to move or say something. ANYTHING!

* * *

"Blerg" ok not that…"I mean hi"

"Oh goodness we aren't going to start this again are we?"

"No. No. No. Well its nice to put a face to your shoes and voice."

"Yea it is."

Brittany and Santana are just staring at each other; Quinn starts feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"Well…I'm just going to wait outside…ok. Bye"

"So your a brunette huh?"

"All my life. And you're a blonde?"

"Last time I checked."

"Cool"

"Yea…"

"Well, I guess I better get going. I have a class in a couple of minutes. And apparently you have somewhere to be."

"Right."

"Alright well, it was nice meeting you."

"You too. Sorry we had to meet this way."

"I'm not, its more memorable that way."

"Haha. I guess your right."

Brittany starts to walk out the door.

"Santana?"

"Yea?"

"It would have made my day if I bumped into you getting toilet paper"

"Because it would have been funny…I know Brittany."

"No…because it would have been hot. And you know…I really like brunettes. But I love Hispanic brunettes even more. Don't forget to wash your hands."

With that, she winks and walks out the door.

"Well shit."

You know what things I don't understand?

The heart. I never understood how it can make you feel so many different things at once. One, that it is about to break out of your chest because its beating so hard and fast. Two, it actually would break out of your stomach because that is exactly where it dropped. And three, how in the hell can it fall so fast…just by one look.

Myself. Why the hell didn't I get her number?


	2. Chapter 2

**After reading all the comments (thanks for all the kind words by the way!), and kicking myself in the butt, I decided to make this a three-shot. So here is the 2nd chapter. Hope it's as good as the first. Let me know!**

**Disclaimer: I still do not own any of these characters. Thats all Glee right there.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

You know what things I don't understand?

Alarm clocks. I swear they're alive and evil. They work all the time like little good alarm clocks. Then on days you actually have to be somewhere they're all like "nah, lets not go off this morning". Its not like I didn't set it. I definitely set it to wake me up exactly at 6 am. And here I am…at 11 am. Just waking up.

Rushing. It never serves anybody any good. You're not in the right mind. All you can think about is "Oh shit. I'm late. I'm so freakin late. But I need a shower cause I smell like a cow." So you're bound to forget something. Or a couple things. Or just one REALLY important thing.

The girls who live on my floor. I understand there are a lot of girls on this floor. I understand we all have to share one bathroom. I understand people rush to classes and therefore forget to sometimes clean up after themselves. A simple towel left behind…or some toothpaste on the sink isn't going to kill anybody. But your gosh darn sanitary napkins overflowing and falling out of the trash can? Toilet paper scattered on the floor? Hair…all over the damn shower? I swear I could make a wig with all the hair I find in there. It's just not okay.

Showers. Why does it have to take like 10 minutes to find the right shower temperature? Showers should have 2 buttons. One that says "Cold"…because we know those come in handy every once in while. And one that says "The perfect temperature". It would save so much time.

Time. Seriously. I swear I stepped into this shower like 2 minutes ago and my alarm on my phone just went off to remind me it's 10 to 12. Where did the time go?! I mean…sure…maybe I should have rushed a bit more. The 3rd encore of "Valerie" probably wasn't needed. But the showerhead was pleading for me to do another.

Myself. How is it that I remembered to bring everything BUT a towel.

"Well shit."

* * *

"Maybe I could make a run for it? I mean, everyone has to be in class…I didn't see anyone in the hallways when I came in here. Then again I was rushing. Damn it! How could I forget a towel? Now I'm in this nasty stall. Dripping wet. And talking to myself. Gosh I'm going crazy. You know what…I don't care…I'm making a run for it."

Santana quickly grabs her things and moves the shower curtain away to start making a run for it. Right when she steps one foot out she hears a door close and some whistling. She quickly jumps back in the shower, quickly closing the curtain, slipping on the tiles, and finds herself flat on her butt.

"Owww my ass."

"Whoa. Hello?"

"Yea"

"Are you ok? I heard a bang."

"Yea"

"Ok…well um you might want to be more careful in the shower. I hear its one of the leading causes of death."

"No its not."

"Ok, maybe not. But it still is dangerous. Wait…Santana is that you?"

"Um maybe…who are you?"

"Its Brittany! From the bathroom! We met on the toilet!"

"Well shit."

* * *

You know what things I don't understand?

Karma. That's what people say right? When you do something bad, they tell you karma is going to come kick you in the ass. Which it does. The worst part about it is trying to figure out what exactly you did to deserve it. Like what in the world did I do to deserve having the world's most beautiful girl find me stuck on a toilet. Starting up the most awkward moment of my life. Walk out of my life. Not get her number. Think I'm never going to see her again. Just for her to find me stuck in the shower. Therefore starting up the 2nd most awkward moment of my life. What. Did. I. Do?

Words. There are people you will meet in life who just have "them words". You know what I'm talking about. They are charming when they need to be. Funny when they ought to be. And sweet enough to reel in every single person they get their little hook snagged on. Me? I have none of that. Not one bit of it.

Myself. Why haven't I stood up yet? If these shower curtains are short enough to show everyone's feet. I am sure she is getting an eyeful with my butt on the floor. Practically in plain sight. Nice one.

"Um hello?"

"Still here."

"Yea, I can see that…glad you stood up by the way…I was going to tell you that you might of wanted to."

"Sorry about that."

"Don't be. Cute butt."

"Oh may gawd."

"You ok there Santana?"

"I'm fine. Just practically dying from embarrassment. But I'm good. What are you doing in here anyway?"

"Well I was about to take a shower…"

"You live on this floor?"

"Last time I checked yes."

"That's crazy…me too."

"That's awesome! We're practically neighbors!"

"Yea, neighbors…actually Brittany…could you do me a favor please?"

"Join you?" Am I dead?…no seriously. Do I have a pulse?

"NO! No…um I'm actually done showering."

"Aw that's a shame."

"Yea, anyway…I actually forgot my towel and was wondering if you had and extra one I could borrow? I have one in my room that I will race back and get and then you could use that one or something. And I would wash yours and return it, unless you don't want it back cause its nasty or something. But I promise I don't have any type of disease…"

"Santana! Its fine." She's giggling. Great. Just when I think it couldn't get worse…I ramble.

"Oh ok, um thanks."

"No problem"

"Um so I will just open the curtain a bit if you want to pass it over."

"Wait a second, its not going o be that easy. I mean, here I am giving you one of my own towels…don't you think I deserve something in return?"

"I'm going to give you my towel once I get it."

"Not like that silly."

"Oh, then what?"

"I'm pretty sure we didn't finish our 20 questions game last time we saw each other."

"You know what…keep the towel. I'll air dry."

"Santana pleassseee!"

You know what things I don't understand?

Myself. I should of just stayed behind the shower curtain. Why did I peak out? Why did I take a look? Why did I let myself get cornered by the hottest pout I have ever seen. I didn't even know pouts could look like that. Why does her pout look like that?! It's a freakin magical pout!

"Well shit."

* * *

"I can't believe your making me do this."

"Oh cheer up Santana, its fun!"

"Brit…I'm in a shower naked and cold. Covered just by a flimsy shower curtain. While you sit on a bench. Withholding a towel from me until I answer questions you will ask. Which will most likely be embarrassing and personal. When is the fun supposed to start?" Why the hell is she smiling so wide?

"Why are you smiling so wide?"

"You called me Brit."

"What? Shit…um sorry…I didn't…ugh"

"Its fine…San"

"Um ok. Anyway, how many of these do I need to answer?"

"15"

"What?!"

"We only asked like 5 before"

"Brittany I don't have time to answer 15 questions."

"Ok fine you big party popper. 3 questions. But I can ask whatever I want and you have to give me an answer! No dodging it!"

"Ugh…fine."

"Yay! Ok, we'll start off easy. What are you here for? Like, what are you studying?"

"I want to go into music production. I like to sing, music in general is my life, and I like to be in control...so I thought this would kind of be the best of both worlds. Hopefully in the future own my own music label…its a reach though."

"That's awesome!"

"Am I allowed to ask you 3 questions as well?"

"Of course."

"Well then…same question to you…what are you here for?

"I'm here on a dance scholarship. Hoping I get a break somewhere. It would be nice to be able to perform on stage in front of thousands. But I also love kids, so I always thought a back up would be becoming a dance instructor. You know, co-owning a studio. All that stuff."

"I'm sure you'll make it big"

"You haven't even seen me dance silly"

"Yea well, you're good at getting your way so…"

"Ok next question…"

"Can I ask it first this time?"

"Go for it."

Brittany stands up and walks over to Santana. Stopping a couple feet in front of the shower curtain.

"Are you seeing anyone right now? Like…romantically"

"Not a soul."

"Why not?"

"Does that count as a third question?"

"No, its a two part question. So answer it."

"So you do like to be in control"

"Brittany…"

"Ok, ok. I personally just haven't found anyone worth my time. I'm not one who just has flings…if I'm going to take time and effort dating someone, I mind as well date someone who would be worth it."

"Makes sense."

"Ok my turn! So why didn't you ask me for my number last time we talked?"

"Um…jeez. I don't know. I guess I was a bit embarrassed. It just kind of slipped my mind. I mean you didn't either."

"I was waiting for you to make the first move. When you didn't I just figured you weren't interested in being my friend" Just a friend?…guess I'm not worth her time either.

"Ok well…as my third question then…can I have your number so we can be friends?"

"Yes you may." Just when I thought her smile couldn't get wider.

They swap phones, typing in each others numbers, Brittany suggest Santana takes a picture for the photo I.D, Santana kindly declines reminding Brittany that she is in fact naked.

"Ok Ms. Brittany one more question for you, then the towel is mine, but make it quick. I'm already so late."

Brittany walks up closer so that the only thing separating them in the thin shower curtain.

"Where is it exactly do you always run off to?"

"Well shit."

* * *

You know what things I don't understand?

Excuses. Why are they so darn hard to make up? I mean aren't they there to help people? Aren't they there for those times where you're out of Twix, don't have a moment, and need a couple words to get the person off your back? Then why are they so hard to make up? Some people are geniuses at making them up. But this girl? This girl is not.

Myself. I could be open. I could be brave. Throw all caution to the wind and say "KISS ME ON MY LIPS BRITTANY (STILL NEED TO LEARN YOU LAST NAME)!" But I don't. Not even one bit. Why? I have no stinking idea.

"Just class."

"Class?"

"Yup"

"You're lying"

"What…um…are you talking about?"

"Santana…I thought we were friends" Oh gosh…she looks like she is going to cry.

"Ok…Ok…its just work Brittany. Seriously. I have a job."

"Well what do you do?"

"Ah…that would be a forth question which is not allowed"

"No! It's a two part! You got one!"

"Brittany, its seriously nothing big…ok? I just don't want to talk about right now."

"Ugh fine. Here's you towel."

"Thanks…even though I'm mostly dry by now anyway."

"Oh so you don't want it then?"

"No! No…hand it over"

Santana wraps the towel around her, picks up her stuff, and goes to leave. Brittany is still in front of the curtain just staring at her.

"Um, are you going to move Brit?"

"As long as you promise me something."

"What now?"

"You have my number now."

"I know…"

Brittany walks up closer until they are face-to-face, noses practically brushing against each other.

"Your my friend now."

"I know."

"Don't make me wait so long this time San."

"Ok."

"You promise?"

"I promise Brit. Now come on…move"

"Ok"

Brittany looks down at Santana's lips then back up to her eyes, she slowly leans in just as Santana closes her eyes. Right before she hits her lips she quickly turns her head to give Santana a quick kiss on the cheek, and then rushes into the next stall to shower. Santana stands there shocked, then quickly makes sure she has everything and hastily makes her way out.

"See yah soon, friend!"

"Well shit"

You know what things I don't understand?

Friends. What exactly is a friend? In the middle between family and a complete stranger? That's a pretty big gap. So then you have to decide what type of friend are you exactly? Like the "Almost Friend" who you just met, you like them, but you wouldn't trust them anymore then you would trust Swiper from Dora the Explorer. The "Good Friend" you know the ones that never give you problems, is awesome to hang out with, but doesn't give you the time of day when you need advice cause your just not "there" yet in your friendship. The "Best Friend" basically like a girlfriend/boyfriend, with a little bit more sarcasm, violence, and without out all the sexual stuff…so the friendship itself is draining and somewhat unsatisfying. Then you have the "Friend Zone" the completely unwanted stage of friendship that you are thrown into when someone you like does not like you back, so you are stuck with this awful, uncomfortable, mess of them telling you about their love life and you hating yourself for sitting there and listening. It all kind of sucks.

Myself. Why'd I even promise? Everyone knows my scared-ass-self isn't going to call her. She's amazing…perfect even! She deserves better, she deserves someone worth her time. Not me. Not…just a "friend".


End file.
